


When I'm Sixty-Four

by Barb Cummings (Rahirah)



Series: The Barbverse [113]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Established Relationship, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-21
Updated: 2009-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-03 12:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rahirah/pseuds/Barb%20Cummings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will you still need me, will you still feed me?</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I'm Sixty-Four

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set in the same universe as _A Raising in the Sun_, _Necessary Evils_, et. al. (See the [Barbverse Timeline](http://sleepingjaguars.com/buffy/viewpage.php?page=timeline) for specifics.) It contains spoilers for previous works in the series.

Spike's been crouched on the ledge overlooking the harbor for weeks, feels like, while the January fog works its chill into his bones and the moon rises and peaks and falls again behind a ragged shoal of clouds. Not a sign, not a scent of his prey. Fool's errand. His joints creak as he rises, stands, and shakes himself back into human form, silhouetted against the coming dawn. Bloody hell, he's been had.

Time was he'd have set straight out with blood in his eye to find the smirking bastard who'd snookered him, and decorate the landscape with said bastard's internal organs. But tonight, for all he's furious, it's not worth it. The bastard can wait till he's gotten a good morning's sleep and a pint or two of warm pig inside him. That's the thing about getting older, he's found - it's not the slow accumulation of grey hairs or extra pounds that makes the difference, it's the banking of those inner flames. In a better mood, he might call it wisdom, but he's never aspired to be wise. Spike's not one for regrets, and if he had the decision that made him mortal to do over, he'd make the same choice. But there's nights, and maybe this is one, when he misses that youthful fire.

He's halfway down the side of the building (ten years ago, he thinks, he'd have jumped) when his cell phone vibrates in the pocket of his jeans. He sighs - Buffy. Probably wants him to pick up milk on the way home or somewhat. "What the fuck, Slayer?"

_"Kill something for me."_

Her voice purrs in his ear and weaves around his brainstem, low and sultry. Spike draws a long hissing breath. "Shall I, then?"

"Mmm hm. Something big, and mean, and _way_ nastier than you are."

He can't help but grin. His kitten's still got claws. "Gonna be hard to find something nastier than me, pet."

"I have faith in your ingenuity."

"And what will you be doing?"

"Me?" There's a breathless laugh, and the ring of steel. "Oh, I'll just have to entertain myself somehow."

And she's gone. Spike tucks the cell away, still grinning. And jumps the rest of the way down.

**END**


End file.
